The Secret Of Snowy River
by ShirleyTemple1932
Summary: Jim and Jessica have a daughter named Ashlynn"Ashley" Craig, Who Jessica's father Harrison doesn't know of. But Clancy of the overflow is the only one that does. But a spring storm bring them all together, what could happen and will Harrison be happy or angry.Base on the man from snowy river and partly on return to snowy river movies.
1. Chapter 1, Snowy River

**So… this is my first time writing about snowy river so not sure how good I 'am. **

**Also some key notes for this story is #1, I made up the town of Dawson and Dawson river so it's just there in my verison..o.k**

**And #2. Ashlynn is also referred to as Ashley by Jim and Clancy but is the same person. Mostly based off The man From Snowy River Movie and partly on Return To Snowy River Movie.**

**#3. Jessica and Jim are married**

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Poem excerpt written by **Andrew Barton "Banjo" Paterson**

_The secret of Snowy River_

Chapter one, Snowy River

Jessica Craig had just finished packing her satchel.

She was going to visit her father Harrison.

It had been three years since Jessica had been back down to the flats.

A little hand tugged on her long skirt. "Momma why you go" The three year old asked.

Jessica bent down to scoop up the little girl. "Ashlynn remember I'm going to visit my father" Jessica Told the Little girl.

Ashlynn looked up at her sadly, she had the same sandy blonde hair and blue eyes as Jim.

Jessica wasn't exactly sure why she'd chose to keep Ashlynn a secret from her father, maybe because Jessica didn't know if he'd be happy or angry and she hoped it had been the best choice.

Perhaps Jessica might tell her father while she was visiting.

Jessica was leaving Ashlynn with Jim while she was gone.

Jim planned to take Ashlynn with him to collect some horses up by Dawson, because Ashlynn loved riding with Jim.

Even though it scared Jessica to death that she might fall out of the saddle.

"All ready to go? I saddled Jack for you" A voice behind her asked

"Yes" Jessica replied turning to face Jim.

Jessica rode her horse along the mountain trail that lead from Snowy River to the flat country.

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_Next Day, Snowy River_

"Papa we going to see horsies" Ashlynn asked.

"Yes, Ashley, we are" Jim said Buttoning Ashlynn's dark blue coat.

Jim lifted Ashley into the saddle and tightened the special strap across her waist to hold her up better in the saddle with a lesser chance of falling.

Jim climbed into the saddle behind her and rode with the reins in one hand and an arm around Ashlynn.

Jim and Ashlynn rode for a few hours some of which Ashlynn sang made up songs to herself for entertainment before she fell asleep in the afternoon.

About a week later they ran across Clancy of the Overflow who was heading down to the flats to see Harrison.

"Gonna be another spring storm in a couple of days" Clancy remarked to Jim looking at the sky overhead.

"Down" Ashlynn said wriggling around trying to get down to see Clancy whom she'd met before.

Jim unbuckled the strap and swung her down from the saddle to the ground.

While Clancy and Jim set up camp for the night, Ashlynn kept herself busy by building things out of twigs.

After supper Ashlynn leaning sleepily against Jim's shoulder with her thumb in her mouth. "Clancy Story Please" she asked rubbing her eyes.

"A story huh" Clancy asked

"Horsie story" Ashley Clarified

Clancy Began the story

"_There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around_

_That the colt from old Regret had got away,_

_And had joined the wild bush horses – he was worth a thousand pounds_

_So all the cracks had gathered to the fray._

_All the tried and noted riders from the stations near and far_

_Had mustered to the homestead overnight,_

_For the bushmen love hard riding where the wild bush horses are,_

_And the stockhorse snuffs the battle with delight._

_There was Harrison, who made his pile when Pardon won the cup,_

_The old man with his hair as white as snow;_

_But few could ride beside him when his blood was fairly up—_

_He would go wherever horse and man could go._

_And Clancy of the Overflow came down to lend a hand,_

_No better horseman ever held the reins;_

_For never horse could throw him while the saddle girths would stand,_

_He learnt to ride while droving on the plains._

_And one was there, a stripling on a small and weedy beast,_

_He was something like a racehorse undersized,_

_With a touch of Timor pony – three parts thoroughbred at least—_

_And such as are by mountain horsemen prized._

_He was hard and tough and wiry – just the sort that won't say die—_

_There was courage in his quick impatient tread;_

_And he bore the badge of gameness in his bright and fiery eye,_

_And the proud and lofty carriage of his head._

_But still so slight and weedy, one would doubt his power to stay,_

_And the old man said, "That horse will never do_

_For a long and tiring gallop – lad, you'd better stop away,_

_Those hills are far too rough for such as you."_

_So he waited sad and wistful – only Clancy stood his fiend—_

_"I think we ought to let him come," he said;_

_"I warrant he'll be with us when he's wanted at the end,_

_For both his horse and he are mountain bred._

_"He hails from Snowy River, up by Kosciusko's side,_

_Where the hills are twice as steep and twice as rough,_

_Where a horse's hoofs strike firelight from the flint stones every stride,_

_The man that holds his own is good enough._

_And the Snowy River riders make their home,_

_Where the river runs those giant hills between;_

_I have seen full many horsemen since I first commenced to roam,_

_But nowhere yet such horsemen have I seen."_

Clancy paused" That's enough for tonight" he said softly. Taking a sip of water.

Ashlynn was completely asleep now and the next day they bid good-bye to Clancy.

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**So that was chapter one , I doubt there will be any reviews but if you do read please review or PM me.**

**-ShirleyTemple1932**


	2. Chapter 2, The Flats

Here is Chapter two if anybody read chapter one you liked it and this chapter was my favorite to write so far.

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_Chapter two, The Flats_

Clancy looked down at the view below him.

Clancy despised the low country all flat and tamed.

He much preferred the hard and restless mountains.

That was much like him in a way.

No doubt Clancy would drove on the sunlit plains until the day he died.

Clancy sighed and wheeled his horse down towards Harrison's homestead.

When he drew into the yard the men began to talk amongst themselves.

They would say "It's Clancy Of The Overflow", "magician with horses", " A legend" , "No Horse can throw him".

By now Clancy was used to it and ignored it for the most part.

After dinner that evening Clancy was in the parlor with Harrison and Jessica.

"How Was Your Ride" Jessica asked him

"Fine, I came across Jim at Dawson's River" Clancy said winking to let Jessica know that he'd seen Ashlynn as well.

"Jim said he was going to collect some horses up near there" Jessica remarked

The wink wasn't missed by Harrison.

The Clock chimed and Jessica glanced at it.

"I'm going to turn in for the night" She said and left the room.

Harrison seizing the opportunity asked "What did the wink mean?"

"What wink?" Clancy asked

"Don't play dumb with me Clancy" Growled Harrison

"Must have had something in my eye then" Clancy replied looking Harrison straight in the eyes to prove telling the truth.

"Does it have to do with Jim Craig?" Harrison asked

Clancy looked to be weighing his options.

"It's Not My Tale to tell" Clancy said finally and left the room.

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_And Clancy of the Overflow came down to lend a hand,_

_No better horseman ever held the reins;_

_For never horse could throw him while the saddle girths would stand,_

_He learnt to ride while droving on the plains_

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End of chapter two poem excerpt written by A.B."Banjo" Paterson


	3. Chapter 3, The Mountains

So here is chapter three, I hope I write good my best friend says I do but?

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Chapter Three, Mountains

It had been raining lightly earlier but had stopped.

"papa is the sky gonna cry again" Ashlynn asked looking at the fast darkening rain clouds.

Jim chuckled at her describing of rain. "yes it's going to rain again".

"Why" Ashlynn asked

"It helps everything grow, like plants" Jim told her.

" So horsies have grass to eat "Ashley said

"Exactly Ashley "Jim said

Just like Clancy had predicted a large spring storm had come up.

It was raining fiercely and nothing could be kept dry.

Including the clothes on their backs which were soaked and plastered on.

After all their coats were only water restraint to a point with was long since passed.

Jim decided that it was pointless to stop for the night, being too wet for a fire and continued riding.

"Papa its cold"Ashlynn complained shivering.

"Here Ashlynn"Jim said taking off his coat and wrapping it around his little girl.

Jim shivered when the cool air hit the back of his wet shirt when he removed the coat.

Jim knew that It'd be best to get Ashlynn warm and dry.

Because it was doubtful that Jessica would take it well if her Little girl was sick when she got back.

Jim also knew from the landscape that a couple hours ride and a few shortcuts that they could end up at Harrisons.

Making his decision quickly Jim wheeled his horse towards Harrisons.

Using routes only few mountain horsemen knew of, many of them had been shown to Jim by Spur.

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All the tried and noted riders from the stations near and far

Had mustered to the homestead overnight,

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Poem excerpt written by A.B "Banjo" Paterson


	4. Chapter 4, Harrisions

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Chapter four, Harrisons

Yesterday Clancy and Harrison had exchanged their words and Harrison was still angry and refused to speak to Clancy.

Harrison, Jessica and Clancy were sitting in the parlor.

Harrison scowling at Clancy and Jessica Doing needlepoint.

While Clancy sat there looking slightly amused at Harrison but with an air of boredness.

Finally Clancy said "your face could freeze that way if you scowl any harder"

Harrison scowled deeper and ignored Clancy.

They heard a horse ride in and it's rider jump down.

Jessica hurried to the window to look out.

" Who is it?" Harrison asked

" So your speaking again" Was Clancy's reply.

"It's Jim "Jessica said surprised

There was a loud echoing knock at the door.

Jessica hurried to open the door and hugged Jim.

Jim Stepped into the parlor carrying Ashlynn half-asleep still wrapped in his coat.

" Hullo Jim" Clancy Greeted him.

" So little Ashlynn got pretty soaked" Clancy said gesturing to the bundle in Jim's arms.

" WHO" Harrison asked

" He's drunk" Jessica said quickly glancing at Jim to help her.

" Yeah he's drunk always acts like this way" Jim said

" Oh come on admit, admit it" Clancy said playing up the pretending to be drunk bit.

"your actually drunk" Jim said surprised

Jessica began to unwrap the coat revealing Ashlynn's face.

Harrison's eyes widened when he saw the child and that she was the spitting image of Jim Craig.

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For both his horse and he are mountain bred.

"He hails from Snowy River, up by Kosciusko's side,

Where the hills are twice as steep and twice as rough

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Poem except written by A.B."Banjo" Paterson


	5. Chapter 5, Harrisons Part 2Ending

**Thanks so much for reviewing this is the final chapter**

Chapter 5, Harrisons Part 2/Ending

"Why is she all wet?" Jessica asked as she unbuttoned Ashlynn's dark blue coat.

Ashlynn opened her eyes and looked around the room confused.

"why not on horsie" she asked Jessica.

"JESSICA WHO IS THIS CHILD AND WHERE DID SHE COME FROM" Harrison yelled impatiently fearing his nightmare had come true.

"You see mate when two people really love each-" Clancy started before Harrison cut him off.

" SHUT UP I KNOW THAT PART CLANCY" he shouted.

Ashlynn covered her ears she didn't like all the shouting going on.

"she is my daughter, her name is Ashlynn Elizabeth Craig" Jessica said firmly.

"Your Married now too I hope?" Harrison inquired.

"yes three years ago" Jessica replied.

"Three years" Harrison sputtered.

"it was a nice Summer wedding too" Clancy reminisced.

Harrison turned to look at his old friend. " you knew,whose side are you on?" he asked.

Clancy just shrugged and said, "That's for me to know and you to find out mate" .

Then it sunk in he had a granddaughter, he was a grandfather if only Jessica's mother was here to see this.

"may I hold her?" Harrison asked Jessica.

Jessica put Ashlynn on her father's lap, "Hi" Ashlynn whispered sleepily.

" Beautiful isn't she" Clancy said.

" indeed she is " Harrison whispered looking down at the sleepy toddler.

" Horsie story" Ashlynn asked Clancy Hopefully.

Clancy began the story again where he left off,

_So he went – they found the horses by the big mimosa clump—_

_They raced away towards the mountain's brow,_

_And the old man gave his orders, "Boys, go at them from the jump,_

_No use to try for fancy riding now._

_And, Clancy, you must wheel them, try and wheel them to the right._

_Ride boldly, lad, and never fear the spills,_

_For never yet was rider that could keep the mob in sight,_

_If once they gain the shelter of those hills."_

_So Clancy rode to wheel them—he was racing on the wing_

_Where the best and boldest riders take their place,_

_And he raced his stockhorse past them, and he made the ranges ring_

_With the stockwhip as he met them face to face._

_Then they halted for a moment, while he swung the dreaded lash,_

_But they saw their well-loved mountain full in view,_

_And the charged beneath the stockwhip with a sharp and sudden dash,_

_And off into the mountain scrub they flew._

_Then fast the horsemen followed, where the gorges deep and black_

_Resounded to the thunder of their tread,_

_And the stockwhips woke the echoes, and they fiercely answered back_

_From cliffs and crags that beetled overhead._

_And upward, ever upward, the wild horses held their way,_

_Where the mountain ash and kurrajong grew wide;_

_And the old man muttered fiercely, "We may bid the mob good day,_

_No__man can hold them down the other side.'_

_When they reached the mountain's summit, even Clancy took a pull,_

_It well might make the boldest hold their breath,_

_The wild hop scrub grew thickly, and the hidden ground was full_

_Of wombat holes, and any slip was death._

_But the man from Snowy River let the pony have his head,_

_And he swung his stockwhip round and gave a cheer,_

_And he raced him down the mountain like a torrent down its bed,_

_While the others stood and watched in very fear._

_He sent the flint stones flying, but the pony kept his feet,_

_He cleared the fallen timber in his stride,_

_And the man from Snowy River never shifted in his seat—_

_It was grand to see that mountain horseman ride._

_Through the stringybarks and saplings, on the rough and broken ground,_

_Down the hillside at a racing pace he went;_

_And he never drew the bridle till he landed safe and sound,_

_At the bottom of that terrible descent._

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During the conversation in the parlor Jim had slipped out to the stables to take care of the horses.

The rain had just started falling in the flats.

The same storm that Jim and Ashlynn had rode in earlier and farther away from here.

Jim finished rubbing down the last horse from Dawson and had just began to unsaddle his faithful mountain horse.

When he suddenly sneezed from being cold and wet still.

"bless you" a voice came from behind.

"Kane" Jim said turning around to face Harrison's foreman and right hand man.

" Haven't seen you for a while down in these parts" Kane remarked.

" yeah guess I like the mountains better or something" Jim replied unbuckling the horse's girth and halter straps.

"Clancy's here by the way in case you haven't heard" Kane said as he turned to go.

"I saw his horse already" Jim said pointing at the sturdy brown horse in the stall behind Kane.

A half smile crossed Kane's face. " Don't get too cocky now" was all that he said.

Jim laughed and went back to attending to his horse.

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Meanwhile Clancy was beginning to feel the restlessness to be in the sunlit plains again he had been on the flats for too long now.

So He bid his goodbyes and rode off at daybreak.

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Harrison had now finally met his granddaughter and was the happiest he'd been in a long time.

Harrison didn't end up to mad at all, because Ashlynn had charmed his heart as she had with many others.

Piece by piece Clancy Told Ashlynn the story of The Man From Snowy River.

Which Ashlynn christened her horsie story but unkowning to the three year old it was the story of people she knew all too well and of her father's daring ride down the mountain or that it was a story told in many househoulds.

It wasn't until Ashlynn was eight years old that she discovered the meaning.

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**5 years later**

Eight year old Ashlynn Elizabeth Craig sat on the fence post gazing at the beautiful landscape surrounding her.

She was waiting for her father to come home, she wondered if he might bring Clancy to visit also.

Mostly Ashlynn was enjoying the peace of being by herself since most of her days she was helping her mother with chores or with her little brother Joseph James Craig he's four years old and into trouble all the time.

Ashlynn shaded her eyes against the sun, she thought she'd just seen a horse.

There it was again!

Ashlynn climbed down, " I saw two horsemen" she shouted running into the cabin.

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Later that evening at supper Clancy was telling Jessica about this horse that had gotten away and how her father had to chase it down the mountain side.

"But it wasn't that bad, Jim's down it before" Clancy finished.

"Before" Ashlynn questioned.

" Who do you think your favorite story is about" Clancy told her winking.

"what story" Joseph asked.

Clancy grinned and started to tell the story known to Ashlynn as her horsie story but to many others as the legend of The Man From Snowy River.

**The End. Hope You enjoyed it-Shirleytemple1932**

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**Complete Poem The Man From Snowy River written by A.B."Banjo" Paterson.**

**The Man From Snowy River**

There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around

That the colt from old Regret had got away,

And had joined the wild bush horses – he was worth a thousand pounds

So all the cracks had gathered to the fray.

All the tried and noted riders from the stations near and far

Had mustered to the homestead overnight,

For the bushmen love hard riding where the wild bush horses are,

And the stockhorse snuffs the battle with delight.

There was Harrison, who made his pile when Pardon won the cup,

The old man with his hair as white as snow;

But few could ride beside him when his blood was fairly up—

He would go wherever horse and man could go.

And Clancy of the Overflow came down to lend a hand,

No better horseman ever held the reins;

For never horse could throw him while the saddle girths would stand,

He learnt to ride while droving on the plains.

And one was there, a stripling on a small and weedy beast,

He was something like a racehorse undersized,

With a touch of Timor pony – three parts thoroughbred at least—

And such as are by mountain horsemen prized.

He was hard and tough and wiry – just the sort that won't say die—

There was courage in his quick impatient tread;

And he bore the badge of gameness in his bright and fiery eye,

And the proud and lofty carriage of his head.

But still so slight and weedy, one would doubt his power to stay,

And the old man said, "That horse will never do

For a long and tiring gallop – lad, you'd better stop away,

Those hills are far too rough for such as you."

So he waited sad and wistful – only Clancy stood his fiend—

"I think we ought to let him come," he said;

"I warrant he'll be with us when he's wanted at the end,

For both his horse and he are mountain bred.

"He hails from Snowy River, up by Kosciusko's side,

Where the hills are twice as steep and twice as rough,

Where a horse's hoofs strike firelight from the flint stones every stride,

The man that holds his own is good enough.

And the Snowy River riders make their home,

Where the river runs those giant hills between;

I have seen full many horsemen since I first commenced to roam,

But nowhere yet such horsemen have I seen."

So he went – they found the horses by the big mimosa clump—

They raced away towards the mountain's brow,

And the old man gave his orders, "Boys, go at them from the jump,

No use to try for fancy riding now.

And, Clancy, you must wheel them, try and wheel them to the right.

Ride boldly, lad, and never fear the spills,

For never yet was rider that could keep the mob in sight,

If once they gain the shelter of those hills."

So Clancy rode to wheel them—he was racing on the wing

Where the best and boldest riders take their place,

And he raced his stockhorse past them, and he made the ranges ring

With the stockwhip as he met them face to face.

Then they halted for a moment, while he swung the dreaded lash,

But they saw their well-loved mountain full in view,

And the charged beneath the stockwhip with a sharp and sudden dash,

And off into the mountain scrub they flew.

Then fast the horsemen followed, where the gorges deep and black

Resounded to the thunder of their tread,

And the stockwhips woke the echoes, and they fiercely answered back

From cliffs and crags that beetled overhead.

And upward, ever upward, the wild horses held their way,

Where the mountain ash and kurrajong grew wide;

And the old man muttered fiercely, "We may bid the mob good day,

_No_ man can hold them down the other side.'

When they reached the mountain's summit, even Clancy took a pull,

It well might make the boldest hold their breath,

The wild hop scrub grew thickly, and the hidden ground was full

Of wombat holes, and any slip was death.

But the man from Snowy River let the pony have his head,

And he swung his stockwhip round and gave a cheer,

And he raced him down the mountain like a torrent down its bed,

While the others stood and watched in very fear.

He sent the flint stones flying, but the pony kept his feet,

He cleared the fallen timber in his stride,

And the man from Snowy River never shifted in his seat—

It was grand to see that mountain horseman ride.

Through the stringybarks and saplings, on the rough and broken ground,

Down the hillside at a racing pace he went;

And he never drew the bridle till he landed safe and sound,

At the bottom of that terrible descent.

He was right among the horses as they climbed the further hill,

And the watchers on the mountain standing mute,

Saw him ply the stockwhip fiercely, he was right among them still,

As he raced across the clearing in pursuit.

Then they lost him for a moment, where two mountain gullies met

In the ranges, but a final glimpse reveals

On a dim and distant hillside the wild horses racing yet,

With the man from Snowy River at their heels.

And he ran them single-handed till their sides were white with foam.

He followed like a bloodhound on their track,

Till they halted cowed and beaten, then he turned their heads for home,

And alone and unassisted brought them back.

But his hardy mountain pony he could scarcely raise a trot,

He was blood from hip to shoulder from the spur;

But his pluck was still undaunted, and his courage fiery hot,

For never yet was mountain horse a cur.

And down by Kosciusko, where the pine-clad ridges raise

Their torn and rugged battlements on high,

Where the air is clear as crystal, and the white stars fairly blaze

At midnight in the cold and frosty sky,

And where around the Overflow the reed beds sweep and sway

To the breezes, and the rolling plains are wide,

The man from Snowy River is a household word today,

And the stockmen tell the story of his ride.


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